


pleasant and delightful

by readythefanons



Category: Daredevil (TV), Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readythefanons/pseuds/readythefanons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Foggy, tell me again where we’re going?” Matt says. The word Foggy says sounds more like an affliction livestock would suffer from than an actual name of a place. </p><p>“You say that, but I couldn’t find it on any map. Or Wikipedia. Or Google Earth,” Karen adds.</p><p>--</p><p>OR, Matt, Foggy, and Karen visit Foggy's great-great grandmother, one Gytha "Nanny" Ogg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pleasant and delightful

“Foggy, tell me again where we’re going?” Matt says. The word Foggy says sounds more like an affliction livestock would suffer from than an actual name of a place. 

“You say that, but I couldn’t find it on any map. Or Wikipedia. Or Google Earth,” Karen adds.

“It’s real small,” Foggy says dismissively. “My grandma used to just call it ‘the old country.’”

“And we’re going to see your… how many times great grandmother?” Karen asks.

“Only like twice,” Foggy assures her. “She’s going to tell you to call her ‘Nanny.’”

“She’s apparently the source of the Nelson genes that’re going to let Foggy live forever,” Matt adds. 

“Not ‘Nelson’ per se, but other than that, you are correct, counselor.”

\--

Their journey involves a plane, a bus ride, another plane, and a train. Nanny isn’t paying their fare, but one of her friends is, or she called in some favors or something. Foggy’s extremely vague in a way that implies he has no idea how the arrangements have been made, only that they have been made. 

When they get out of the train, Matt stops short. 

“Foggy, where _are_ we?” he asks.

“We’re in Slice,” Foggy says. “Um, you should probably take my arm.” Matt does so, still inhaling the scent of—god, it must be country air. Probably the most familiar smell is the fumes from the train. Other than that’s it’s all… different kinds of smoke. (Matt can differentiate between wood smoke, something that smells unpleasantly like burning fat, and something sort of earthy, but he doesn’t really know _what_ he’s smelling.) The rest of it is animal smells and dirt and plants. Foggy’s still speaking: “Yeah, remember I told you it was gonna get real rural? I’m not sure accessibility is even a thing here.”

“I’ll manage,” Matt says vaguely. …He can’t even smell asphalt. He never thought about what it smelled liked until it was gone. Where _are_ they?

“Foggy, are those _horses?”_ Karen demands. Matt lurches as she grabs hold of Foggy’s other arm and shakes him slightly.

“Yes, Karen. That they are. You can relive your childhood dream of riding a white stallion,” Foggy says.

“It was a grey. And I came to New York because my ideal nightlife _doesn’t_ spend all its time buzzing around the streetlamps.” There’s another little lurch as she apparently bumps hips with Foggy. 

“Streetlights. Well, I’ve got good news and bad news…” Foggy begins.

\--

They make the last leg of the journey by horse. Not riding horses themselves, but in an actual cart pulled by actual horses. Matt spends as much of it meditating as possible, since whoever designed the cart apparently decided to go with hexagons instead of circles for wheels.

\--

“I’ll hand it to you, Foggy, I didn’t really think I’d ever live to see somewhere more rural than my hometown,” Karen says. They’ve just got off the cart and are standing in what Foggy assures Matt “only barely” passes for a town square. “Yet here we are.”

They get picked up by a man named Shawn (“Sean?” “No, Matt, ‘Shawn.’” “…of course. My mistake.”) who leads them through the town and along an interminably winding road all the way up to Foggy’s Nanny’s house. 

Nanny turns out to be a short, round woman with a surprisingly young voice. She pulls Foggy into hug while slapping him on the back. “Foggy! You’re a man now!” And then she’s pounding Matt on the back so hard that if he didn’t know to brace for it, he probably would have ended up on the ground. “And this must be Matt! And you are?” 

“Nanny, this is—”

“Karen Page,” Karen says firmly, interrupting Foggy. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Karen,” Nanny repeats, a speculative note in her voice. “Same, o’course. Well, don’t stand there on the stoop, come in if you’re coming in.”

“There’s a cauldron in a fireplace, if you were wondering,” Karen whispers to Matt. “I know narration is usually Foggy’s job, but I thought you’d like to know.” Nanny is in the middle of recounting who got married and who’s had kids and whose kids have been gathering nuts with someone else’s kids.

“A cauldron?” Matt whispers back. Karen nods. “Do you see a black cat?” She laughs softly.

“Not yet,” she whispers.

\--

They meet the cat when Nanny’s answering the door. 

Foggy’s coming back from stirring whatever’s in the cauldron when he freezes.

“Oh, god, Greebo,” he says. Matt’s instantly on alert at the edge in Foggy’s voice.

“Greebo?” Karen asks cautiously. 

“Nanny’s cat. He’s under your chair, Karen. Just… don’t move.” Foggy moves slowly, and Matt furrows his brow. Is he—is Foggy reaching for the fireplace poker?

“ _Foggy,_ ” Karen says sternly. “What are you doing?”

“Karen, Greebo is a hell-beast. Like, an actual beast from actual Hell.” Foggy’s voice has the too-even, too-light sound that only comes out that screams _do not startle the wild animal_ or possibly _trying to remain calm._ “He might literally be a demon, Karen. Except he probably eats priests.”

“Foggy, put the poker down.” Karen eases off her chair and turns around so she’s crouching facing it. There’s an intake of breath when she gets a look the cat. “Wow, you weren’t kidding.” She takes a deep breath and extends a hand. “Here, big fella,” she coos. “You don’t want Foggy-bear to grab the poker, you want to come out and make nice, right?” There’s a delicate pause, and then Greebo starts to _growl._ Matt didn’t even know cats did that.

Karen slowly draws back her hand, takes a deep breath, and _hisses._

Greebo falls silent. The moment stretches like taffy. Then Greebo slinks out from under Karen’s chair, discernable to Matt as a body of heat and poorly-banked malevolence. Karen sniffs primly and reclaims her seat. She smooths out her skirt with steady hands, and if Matt couldn’t hear her racing heart he’d think she was completely unruffled. 

Foggy’s Nanny returns with her friends. One’s tall and thin and follows almost immediately on Nanny’s heels. She stops on the threshold. 

“Blessings be upon this…room,” she says perfunctorily. Then she commands a seat by the fire while Karen chokes. Before Matt has time to ask what’s wrong, Nanny’s other two friends come through the door. One moves in a rustle of expensive fabric and the other walks with a heavy tread. They both move like they’re trying not to be the kind of person who apologizes a lot. 

“This is Matt, Karen, and our Foggy,” Nanny tells them. The tall woman nods at them. 

“Esme Weatherwax. You can call me Granny.”

The one with the expensive clothes says, “Magrat.”

“That’s Magrat the First of Lancre,” Nanny whispers loudly. “Queen, you know.”

“I’m not here as Queen, Nanny,” Magrat says. Nanny nods and waves at the last woman.

“Agnes,” she says. She’s the youngest, around Matt’s age. She glances around and says, “I’ll put the tea on, shall I?” There’s a quality to her voice Matt strains to hear, but can’t quite make out entirely. (Almost like there’s someone speaking at the same time she is…?)

“No, no,” Nanny says easily. “Karen can do it.” Matt understands why Karen’s heartbeat might speed up, since she’s in the house of a virtual stranger and has no idea where anything might be found, but he doesn’t understand why Agnes’s, Magrat’s, and Foggy’s have as well. Weird.

“I can help, Nanny,” Foggy says quickly. Nanny nods and he and Karen leave the room to find the tea things.

Which leaves Matt alone with Nanny, Granny, Magrat, and Agnes.

\--

“So, Matt, what do you do?” Magrat asks brightly. Matt clears his throat and aims his most charming smile in her direction. 

“I’m a lawyer,” he says. Instead of the usual sounds of approval or admiration, there’s a lot of silence and something that could almost be a _hmph._

“Lawman, eh?” Granny says.

“Lawyers do important work,” Magrat says. “Verence says they’ve got their own guild in Ankh-Morpork. Study the law. Very modern.”

“We don’t have any here, though,” Agnes points out. Magrat waves a hand.

“Well of course we don’t.”

“Except for Matt and our Foggy of course,” Nanny says. There’s been some sort of ruffling and unruffling of feathers here, Matt’s sure of it. He has no idea how or why, but he’s sure of it.

“That’s right,” he says, smile feeling a little odd at the edges now. “Foggy and I are partners at our own firm.” There’s a baffled silence.

Magrat says politely, “I’m sure that must be very interesting for you.” 

“I, yeah. We. We’re still starting up, of course, but we’ve got some experience under our belts and we’re starting to pull in enough that we can really afford to do the work we really want to be doing but didn’t feel comfortable doing before. Pro bono type stuff.” Another silence.

“And what were you doing before? With the work you wanted to do but didn’t feel comfortable doing?” Granny asks. Matt shrugs.

“Did it anyway,” he says honestly. Granny makes a quiet noise, one Matt’s sure no one else could possibly hear. 

“Where’s that tea?” Granny asks, looking around. The room is somehow, magically less tense. Matt has the oddest feeling he’s just been granted a tentative pass on an examination he didn’t know he’d been having.

While they wait for the tea, Magrat asks him more questions about what he and Foggy do. It’s almost normal smalltalk type stuff, except Matt’s almost certain she has no idea what he’s talking about. At all.

\--

Dinner is meat and potatoes with unspecified vegetables.

It’s shockingly good. Matt more or less grew up on meat and potatoes with unspecified vegetables, but this stuff… No pesticides, no preservatives, and the vegetables are so fresh he would swear they were harvested today. He guesses the meat was dried and smoked without ever seeing the inside of a freezer. He’s still in raptures when Foggy nudges him in the side. 

“Good?” Foggy asks. Matt nods mutely, putting another bite into his mouth. 

“This is delicious, Nanny,” Karen says. Matt nods vigorously, and Foggy echoes Karen’s statement. 

“So, Karen, what do you do?”

“I’m a personal assistant,” Karen says. “Formerly in the financial department at a construction company, but now I work for Nelson and Murdock.”

“She keeps the whole operation running,” Foggy says. 

Matt’s mouth is empty just long enough to add, “Ever since she signed on.” Karen laughs, embarrassed but pleased.

“Well it’s not like I could leave you two for dead after I saw you were in such great need,” she teases. Before anyone can ask how they met or anything that might get them onto the topic of accusations of murder, she asks, “Magrat, what do you do?”

“Oh, you know, mostly queening,” Magrat says. 

“Ensuring the royal succession,” Nanny suggests.

“No, Nanny. Well, yes, but that’s more or less taken care of at this point. Um. So herbal remedies and that sort of thing.”

“Bein’ gracious,” Nanny suggests again. Matt realizes at this point that while he, Foggy, and Karen have been served water, the local women are partaking of something that smells more alcoholic. 

Agnes, it transpires, was an aspiring singer in Ankh-Morpork, which Matt guesses is the regional equivalent of New York, and has returned to Lancre for… something. The phrase “going around the houses” gets used a few times, but it sounds like it mostly entails helping out around the neighborhoods. Some sort of position as a local organizer? He’s not sure.

Dinner ends and they adjourn to the living room with the fireplace and cauldron, where Nanny produces a bottle of something so alcoholic Matt’s getting a little buzzed just smelling it. “’S made of apples,” Nanny says. “Well, mainly apples.” The night gets considerably less clear after that.

\--

At some point Matt learns that instead of plumbing, Nanny has an outhouse. In fact, the only place that maybe has plumbing is the castle.

Also, Lancre is some sort of unconstitutional monarchy, and Magrat really is queen.

\--

Karen whispers unnecessarily loudly in Matt’s ear, “They’re all wearing pointy witches’ hats, except for Nanny. But hers is on a stand in the corner. I just thought you should know, since I don’t think Foggy told you yet. And even if he did. Witches’ hats!” She’s pretty drunk, not that Matt’s one to talk.

\--

A bunch of people somehow related to Foggy show up. There’s more alcohol and some dancing and singing that involves a lot of stomping of feet.

\--

Karen is in a corner sitting and talking with Granny and some other women, and Greebo saunters into the room. Karen puts out a hand to him and the corner falls silent. Greebo’s ears go back and he edges forward to sniff her fingers before hightailing it out of the room. There’s a susurration with Karen in the center.

\--

Matt is somehow roped into “supervising” Foggy’s nieces and nephews (technically, something-th cousins, many times removed) despite protestations that he’s blind. Also drunk. Granny says something about not worrying too much about the drink and completely ignores the part about being blind.

\--

There’s a muscle-bound, mostly naked man who has the same name as Nanny’s cat. He exudes testosterone. He apparently wants belly rubs.

\--

There is nothing but noise, and bustle, and an extended family. It’s entirely possible that Karen is being adopted. Foggy slings his arm over Matt’s shoulder and doesn’t leave his side for the rest of the night.

\--

Matt wakes up with a pounding headache and a mouth full of straw. He forces himself upright and gropes around for his glasses. His hand brushes against something soft and body-warm.

“Mmph,” says Foggy. “Ughhhh my head.”

“Foggy, where are we?” 

“I dunno. I’m not from here. My _head.”_

“Foggy. Foggy. Foggy Foggy Foggy.”

“Ugh. What?”

“Where are we?”

Another groan, and a pause. “I think we’re in a barn,” Foggy says. 

“How did we get in a barn?”

“Um, I think we decided the house was too crowded, and we were going to go sleep in a field or something,” Foggy says. Matt has vague memories of saying something stupid about pretending they were camping with no tent.

“That’s right…” he says. “We found a place, right? It took a while because you said there were all sorts of… thistles?” ( _“Spiky plants, Matty, all over the place. They look like the babies of angry pineapples and some shitty grass or something.”_ ) Another memory of the night before comes slinking into Matt’s brain. “And we were in the grass when… Oh.” Matt can tell when Foggy’s memory catches up with his because Foggy rubs the heels of his hands hard into his eye sockets.

“Oh,” Foggy echoes. “Karen and Nanny and Magrat and. Oh.”

“Were they…?” Matt starts.

“Naked? Yes, Matt, they were naked. They were naked and dancing around and laughing a lot. Naked. Be happy you’re blind, Murdock.”

Another memory waves and catches Matt’s attention.

“Was that before or after Nanny stood on the table and sang the song with the hedgehog?”

“After. Definitely after.”

“And the part where Agnes had two voices?” 

“What the… that actually happened?”

Matt nods, then winces. His head is _pounding._ “A unique auditory experience,” he says. Not bad by any stretch, just weird. 

“Nanny gave me sex advice,” Foggy volunteers. “It was. I mean, the advice itself was actually pretty chill and, like, ‘you go, Foggy,’ but overall it was weird. And she. It was weird.”

“When did this happen?”

“I dunno, man. It happens every time I come to visit. Last time I didn’t even know what she was talking about.” There’s a pause as Matt and Foggy struggle into something resembling upright. “Where’s Karen?” Foggy asks. Matt listens.

“She’s coming our way,” he says. He lets Foggy lead him out of the barn. The sun warming his face means the day is already well started.

“Morning, Karen. How’re you even walking and looking like a functional human being?” Foggy calls. 

“Magrat gave me something. Did you two sleep out here?”

“Apparently,” Matt tells her. Karen puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head slightly. 

“There’s a joke here somewhere about being raised in a barn, but it’s not coming to me.”

“Can you work on it over breakfast?” Foggy asks. Karen nods and the three of them return to Nanny’s cottage.

\--

At some point last night, they apparently made the transition from houseguests (to be kept out of the way of people doing actual work) to actual people (possibly capable of making useful contributions to society). Matt would be lying if he said he minded, and he’s sure he’s not the only one. 

Agnes stops by and invites Karen to go round the houses with her, which Karen accepts. Nanny is allegedly teaching Foggy how to mend a thatch roof but it sounds more like she’s subjecting him to an expert interrogation. It’s seriously impressive. Matt’s pretty sure Foggy’s going to end up telling her about the Daredevil stuff, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry. He doesn’t think he’d be able to resist either.

He’s saved from being the only useless one (and also from eavesdropping any more) by Granny, who arrives in a rush of air (what is that? It’s not a horse, bicycle, or car, but she also didn’t walk…) and then the _thud thud thud_ of some seriously tough boots.

“You, Matthew, come with me,” she says. He stands and grabs his cane. She sniffs. “You can leave that here, I imagine.”

“I can’t see,” he tells her, gesturing to his eyes. She _hmphs_.

“You know your own mind best, I’m sure,” she says. He follows her to Nanny’s back yard where… is that a broomstick hovering? It seems an awful lot like a broomstick hovering. 

It is. It also flies. (Badly, though Matt is smart enough not to say anything about that part. He doesn’t want Granny to say something like ‘well let’s see you do better.’)

She has him help her prepare a new garden bed, then takes him on some sort of nature hike, collects a few plants growing in the mountains, and then plants them in her garden. It’s really not Matt helping out Granny Weatherwax; it’s Granny Weatherwax testing Matt. She’s not fooled by Matt’s blind routine one bit. She’s also apparently afraid of nothing, even though Matt’s pretty sure they ran into a bear in the mountains.

When Matt returns to Nanny’s cottage, he’s sweaty, tired, and overall exhilarated. It’s like he’s exercised some part of himself that he’s been neglecting, and it feels good in the way burning muscles sometimes do. Foggy’s been cooking and doing home repair all day, and he seems lighter somehow. It reminds Matt of how Foggy was before crushing debt and unreliable revenue streams and bombings and murders. Not like they’ve gone backwards, but Foggy’s finally shaken off some of the shadows of the last few months. Karen is the last to get back. Magrat is saying something about “if you wanted to live here we’d be glad to have you” and Karen tells her, “No, I have people I need to take care of back home.” She is resolute and sure of herself in a way she hasn’t been since Fisk.

They have four more days in Lancre, then it’s back to the train station (by broomstick this time, which makes Foggy whoop and holler) then the airport, bus stop, another airport, and they’re back in New York. They’ve got a bottle of scumble to put Josie’s bar to shame, memories people outside Nelson-Ogg clan probably wouldn’t believe, and more trust in their ability to benefit Hell’s Kitchen than they’ve had in a long time. That kind of belief is its own sort of magic.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the kinkmeme: http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/5006.html?thread=9459854#cmt9459854
> 
> GNU Terry Pratchett


End file.
